


Taking Care

by e_indulgence



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_indulgence/pseuds/e_indulgence
Summary: As Dimitri starts to take care of himself again, he notices a change in his body.He doesn't expect how much the Professor will enjoy it.(FE3H Kinkmeme fill)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the FE3H Kinkmeme:
> 
> https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1522652#cmt1522652
> 
> Dimitri was having issues after his bout of madness, now that he was filling back out. His hormones are messed up from his years on a terrible diet while roaming the wilderness. He finds out after the wet spots in his tunics that he's able to lactate.
> 
> Bonus  
> ++If his partner wants to milk/suckle his tiddies  
> ++++If he gets a hard on from playing with his leaky nips.

Now that he had resolved to live for himself, Dimitri was trying to eat more regularly. To join the others for meals rather than hunting small animals or raiding the kitchen in the middle of the night.

It wasn't easy. The little skill he had with interacting with people had faded during his time as a fugitive, as had his table manners. He was drained every time he left the table, and more than once Gustave or Ingrid had scolded him for his messy eating.

Even the seemingly simple part of putting the food in his mouth was hard. He knew the chefs worked hard to make the meals taste good, and here he was, wasting their effort. It was hard to convince himself that it wasn't a waste when the dead sat alongside his dining companions, mocking him for his weakness.

At least he had seen enough carnage that their wounds no longer made him feel like throwing up.

Still, the meals were having an effect. He rarely looked in a mirror, but he could feel that his shirts no longer hung off his shoulders, instead curving over his chest, and his breastplate felt snugger than he could ever remember.

Some days, he couldn't muster the courage to go to the dining hall, instead hiding away in the library or cathedral. But wherever he hid, the Professor found him, bringing two plates of food. He always accepted the honor. It was nice eating with the Professor – he was quiet, never prying, and didn't judge him for how he ate. Often, he was just as messy himself.

In truth, he always enjoyed spending time with the Professor, no matter what they were doing. It was comfortable, and ever since he had first seen the Professor smile, Dimitri had wanted to see it again, to see it turned at him. If he was honest with himself, he had fallen for the Professor years ago. But he didn't know what the two of them were to each other. The Professor had stayed with him despite his abhorrent behavior and had pulled him from the darkness. On that pivotal night, he had quietly helped him out of his drenched armor and clothes, then slept with him. During their meals together, the Professor would sometimes touch him – a pat on the back, a touch to the shoulder – but these were all things that a friend might do. And Dimitri treasured their friendship. He had already strained it far too much pursuing his revenge. He could not risk losing it by trying for more.

During one of these meals, a couple of weeks after the battle at Gronder, a messenger rushed in, panting for breath.

“General Eisner! And, uh, Your Highness!” He saluted and bowed in turn, and Dimitri felt a coil of frustration at the interruption and at the unearned title and deference. But he forced it back down to focus on the message. “Our supply line from Daphnel was attacked by bandits less than a day's ride from the monastery.”

“Thank you. I'll take care of it.” The Professor dismissed the messenger, then rubbed his forehead. “I planned to spend today figuring out what battalions we could bring to Fhirdiad, but this is more pressing….”

“I can do it, Professor.” Dimitri spoke with more confidence than he actually felt, but he wanted to help. To take some of the burden off of the Professor, even if it was small. And he did have experience leading troops – he could handle a small expedition against some bandits. He was rewarded for his confidence by seeing tension drain out of the Professor and the corners of his mouth quirk up.

“Thank you. I'll let you know who we can spare for this, and I'll need a report when you get back.” He stood up, picking up his plate. “Let's get started.”

\---

The battle went as smoothly as could be expected. Dimitri had resisted rushing out on his own, despite the goading of the ghosts, instead keeping a view of the entire battle and directing his troops. No one under his command had died, and the bandits were eliminated.

When he got back to the monastery, he went to his room to take off his armor – another attempt to take care of himself better. As he removed the chest plates, he noticed his shirt was clinging in a way it usually didn't. A look down revealed two wet splotches through the dark fabric, right on top of his nipples, which unusually could be seen pushing up the fabric. He didn't smell blood, but the liquid was in the wrong place for sweat, so it was worth investigating. He pulled his shirt off and looked down at his chest. No new injuries, no open wounds, just a few healing scratches from previous battles and the tapestry of scars that marred his whole body. He swiped his thumb across one nipple, raised and pink from irritation, and….

It was damp.

And it sent a shock of pleasure to his groin.

Both of these were new. The second he filed away as information to use later – there was far too much to do right now to waste time indulging himself – but the first could be a concern. Should he ask Mercedes or Professor Manuela if it might be a problem?

He heard a knock at the door, and rushed to grab his shirt and put it back on, wanting to be presentable. As he pulled it down over his waist, he called “Come in!”

The Professor entered and closed the door behind him, looking as put together as he always did, and Dimitri’s heart stuttered. 

“Dimitri, I need a report on that battle….” He cut himself off mid-sentence and marched up to him, his expression stern. “Are you injured?” Dimitri followed the Professor's gaze to his chest, where his shirt was still wet, and flushed slightly. In his haste to be presentable, he had forgotten that this shirt was still stained.

“No!” The Professor's eyes narrowed a fraction.

“Show me.” The skepticism was deserved, given how many times over the past few months he had avoided showing his wounds. He pulled his shirt back off, allowing the Professor to investigate. The Professor first looked him up and down, the slightest frown on his face, before pressing a finger to Dimitri's still-raised nipple.

If touching himself had sent a shock of pleasure, the Professor's small, warm finger cast Thoron. His codpiece felt constricting like never before.

“Professor...” he whined, and the Professor yanked his hand back.

“Did that hurt?”

“N-no…. Rather the opposite,” Dimitri admitted, feeling a flush on his cheekbones. The Professor brought his finger to his lips and tasted it, which did not help the situation in Dimitri's armor. 

“Can I investigate more?” Dimitri nodded. The Professor looked Dimitri up and down. “…You can remove whatever clothing you need to be comfortable, it doesn't bother me.” Dimitri's face grew warmer, and the part of him that remembered propriety protested, but this was the Professor. He had seen him at his worst and stayed. And what he wanted, Dimitri wanted to give him. Always. So he started stripping off his leg armor. As he took the final piece around his hips off, his face burned – the Professor must see his arousal by now. He considered removing his pants as well – they were tight, and as such still somewhat uncomfortable – but decided against it. He had already crossed a line, and did not want to go further.

“Ready?” The Professor asked, and Dimitri nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady at the moment. 

“Tell me if it hurts.” He nodded again. The Professor brought his hand up and squeezed the flesh around Dimitri's nipple, then rolled it with his fingertips. Dimitri gasped, and clenched his fists, fighting the wave of arousal that engulfed him. A bead of white liquid appeared at the tip of his nipple.

 _So your body has finally caught up to how unmanly you are_ , Dimitri heard his father whisper, but he pushed it away, trying to focus instead on the Professor. He looked shocked and – aroused? Surely not. Surely he didn't find Dimitri's body attractive.

“May I taste it?” The Professor sounded eager, more so than he ever had to Dimitri's memory. He knew by now the effect it would have on his body, and the Professor must have seen it too. But he didn't seem to mind, and if he didn't, Dimitri would put aside his worries about propriety.

“Of course.” The Professor's tongue was warm and wet on his nipple, and Dimitri squeezed his fists tighter to prevent himself from doing something untoward to him. The force with which he clenched his fist made his nails, blunt and short as they were, break through his skin. He barely felt the pain and the blood sliding down his palm, not with the shockwaves of his arousal occupying his mind. The Professor drew back, and looked him up and down again, his eyes pausing at his crotch before focusing on his hand.

“Don't hurt yourself holding back,” he scolded, picking up Dimitri's hand before using a small healing spell, the cuts closing up. He picked up Dimitri's other hand and stepped forward, leaving only inches between them. “I want to touch you. Is that ok?” He sounded breathless, perhaps even more than he had in any battle.

“Yes,” Dimitri said, his voice husky and trembling from finally being able to say what he had been holding back so long. The Professor walked him back to the bed, guiding Dimitri down onto it, then removed his jacket and waist armor. Dimitri followed the motions with his eye, and discovered that the Professor indeed was aroused. He felt a swell of pride, that even as damaged as he was, the Professor found him pleasing. But instead of stripping further or doing anything about his arousal, the Professor straddled Dimitri.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” Dimitri nodded, and Byleth lowered his head, latching onto one nipple and sucking. The warmth and sensation were even better than before, and remembering Byleth's instructions Dimitri let himself moan. Then Byleth looked up at him, and Dimitri could do nothing but stare – his jade eyes were gorgeous, even more so when gazing up at him. Dimitri set his hand on Byleth's head, then, after Byleth didn’t object, buried his fingers in his hair. Byleth responded by swirling his tongue around his nipple, causing Dimitri to buck his hips up, desperate for more contact, more friction. Byleth ground back down against him, and Dimitri felt just how hard the other man was. He slipped his spare hand down Byleth's pants and wrapped it around his cock, earning a groan in response.

“Is this ok?”

“Mm-hmm.” Byleth's response vibrated through Dimitri's chest, and it felt so good. Dimitri started stroking Byleth's length slowly, constrained by his pants and the small space between the two. Byleth pulled off his nipple with a pop, and the slight tug from the suction only served to turn Dimitri on more. Byleth made a show of licking his lips.

“It's sweet…. Just like you, Dimitri.” Dimitri thought that being half-naked, with Byleth pressed against him and his hand on Byleth's cock would make him immune to being embarrassed. He was wrong. He flushed, and Byleth smirked, then pulled himself up to kiss Dimitri. Dimitri momentarily tensed in surprise, then let himself relax into the kiss. Byleth's lips were soft and warm, though chapped, and his hair brushed Dimitri's cheeks. Dimitri could hardly believe it was real. It had been years since he had indulged in imagining this, but it was even better than his half-remembered fantasies. Dimitri's grip on Byleth's hair tightened, and he propped himself up to deepen the kiss, wanting more. They broke apart for air, and Dimitri was pleased to see that Byleth was smiling.

“Let's get more comfortable.” Byleth swung himself over so he was no longer straddling Dimitri. Dimitri mourned the loss of contact for a second, but then Byleth started undoing his pants. Dimitri eagerly helped him, seeing where this was going. As soon as his pants were off, he started undoing Byleth's pants, the other man helping. Dimitri appreciated the view as soon as Byleth’s pants came off.

While Byleth was not as large as him, he wasn't small by any means. His legs were muscular from all the training and fighting, and Dimitri drank in the sight, wondering what it would feel like to touch them. Byleth folded his legs and sat on his feet, then dipped his head again and started sucking Dimitri's other nipple, causing him to moan again. He missed the feeling of Byleth pressed against him, but did nothing to change their positions, valuing Byleth's comfort. Instead, he reached around to grasp Byleth's erection and started pumping, eager to repay the pleasure Byleth was giving him. He was rewarded with a lick to his nipple and bucked at the sensation. Dimitri’s hard dick swayed at the motion, brushing against his belly and making him painfully aware of how neglected it was.

He reached around Byleth's head with his other hand and wrapped it around his cock, stroking it with the same speed he stroked Byleth. Byleth hummed in pleasure, the vibration through his chest again warming Dimitri, then popped his mouth off of Dimitri's nipple. The tug and the cool air kept Dimitri's nipple hard. Byleth looked down approvingly at Dimitri's hard and reddened nipples, his look alone bringing a smile to Dimitri's face.

Then Byleth reached down and cupped Dimitri's pecs, slowly squeezing the flesh towards the nipples. The warmth and pressure was good, and it intensified to a peak as Byleth's fingers reached Dimitri's nipples, squeezing and rolling them gently. Byleth licked the trace of milk off his nipples, meeting Dimitri’s eyes the whole time. His gaze and the alternating warmth of his tongue and the coolness of the air pushed Dimitri over the edge, and he came, spilling over his hand and belly.

Despite the almost overwhelming amount of stimulation, Dimitri didn't let his attention to Byleth's cock fade. He needed to make Byleth feel as good as he did. So even as Byleth swung his leg back over Dimitri and sat on his belly, he continued stroking. Dimitri’s interest stirred again at the warm weight of Byleth on top of him and at the slight friction of the tip of his cock brushing against Byleth's butt, but he took advantage of their closeness to sneak his spare hand down to fondle Byleth's balls. 

It was hard to keep a consistent rhythm going, though, as Byleth brushed his fingers over Dimitri's damp, overstimulated nipples. They rolled back and forth easily at the touch, rendered supple by the attention Byleth had given them. The stimulation was maddening – too much and yet not enough at once, pleasure and pain mixing together. Dimitri couldn't stop himself from squirming, the attention almost overwhelming. Byleth appreciated this, smirking and pushing himself down. He then flicked Dimitri's nipples, and Dimitri yelped when the sting was too much.

“Byleth! Please….” Dimitri wasn't sure what he wanted – for the stimulation to stop, or for it to continue. Regardless of his internal confusion, his words saved his nipples from another round of teasing, as Byleth came.

He collapsed next to Dimitri, his hair a mess, but a smile on his lips. Dimitri counted that as a success.

“About that report….” Byleth let the sentence drift off.

Dimitri chuckled. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the users on the Dimileth Discord server who beta'd this story. Any errors remaining are solely my responsibility


End file.
